Talent Night
by BarracudaHeart
Summary: Get ready for a night of  not-so spectacular talent, brought to you by your favorite nations, with America as your M.C.!  Rated T for language, suggestive themes, Russia, Prussia, Hungary's yaoi fetish, France's dirty mind, and mauling poodles.


**A/N: Okay, so this story was based on some ideas I had along with a few friends of mine. My friend Zapheil really helped me think of some ideas, so please check her stuff out!**

**Ireland and Northern Ireland are my OCs whom I've characterized. Ireland (Republic of Ireland) is a snarky, but motherly nation, who is fond of drinking and is a skilled nurse, and Northern Ireland is her calm, kind little brother, who is a shepherd. Ireland doesn't really get along with England, because he took her little brother from her when she gained independence, so they bicker alot. North tries to be the peacemaker**

**No human names or definite pairings in this story. Enjoy! And review!**

Drum rolling.

Spotlight floating across the stage.

The chatter of the nations slowly quieted.

The spotlight floated to the center.

"Psst! Berwald, over to the right!" hissed a voice in the tech box.

Spotlight to the left.

"No you idiot, other side!"

"S'rry N'rway."

Spotlight to the right.

America skidded in, laughing happily on his heel. However, he skidded past the spotlight in the corner, so he was only seen for a fleeting moment by the audience before he rushed to the center in the dark, and he stopped laughing. There was an awkward silence. He then hissed angrily, "Yo Ikea! CENTER!"

The spotlight immediately jerked to the center. America flashed a trademark smile, and said heartily, "Welcome ladies and germs! And I DO mean germs! Haha is it just me or did Cuba walk in here! Hahahahahaha!"

As Alfred cracked up at his own joke, the nations remained silent, exchanging confused looks. He silenced his giggling, and cleared his throat, a bit flushed.

"Well, mhmf, welcome everyone to the talent night. We've got some good acts, and some not so great HINTHINT Arthur." cracked America, laughing at his own horrible joke once again, gaining a glare from England in the audience. Belarus, sitting at a front table with a clearly smitten Lithuania glared and said with contempt, "Is this an act? Because it's absolute garbage."

America flashed another familiar grin and said chuckling, "Not at all my crazy lady friend! Because this is just the beginning of tonight's awesome show! But first, I'd like to thank the Nordics for teching this evening!"

A few claps toward the cold countries up in the tech box emerged, but quickly died down. Giving a thumbs up to the tech crew, America then flashed a proud grin saying, "And now, MY NATIONAL ANTHEM!"

An American flag waving was projected on the stage curtains, and many of the countries began to groan. Just their luck that the World Talent Night was scheduled in Washington DC, which was Bragging Central for America. He wouldn't ever let them forget that they were in his capital, and he was determined to pound it into their little heads. America had his hand over his heart as the overly dramatic fanfare from the band he hired just for this moment began to play. As he began to sing the opening verse of "The Star Spangled Banner", the countries at the front tables did not hesitate to cover their ears as he began to sing the words loudly, proudly, and obnoxiously.

Many of the countries were a bit miffed at America's insistance on singing his anthem, if not how he was wanting them to sing it. They weren't his little citizens so they weren't even going to bother standing up. The country who was most pissed however was England. America just loved to rub it in his face didn't he? Because of...that day...he lost his little brother...and America was so freaking proud of how he became independent, and was no longer in England's family. It annoyed him beyond all reason.

Unable to take anymore, England yelled, "You bloody git! Knock it off and get this act on already!"

When America went on singing, being the only one standing, hand on his heart, belting out the words, a few countries, mainly England, Scotland(who was drunk), Ireland (who was horribly drunk and her blouse slipping), Russia, and Cuba booed. It didn't really surprise anybody that those countries may have sat together, as they often liked drinking, and liked yelling at America. Russia's main reason for sitting there was also because he didn't want to sit with Belarus. Northern Ireland covered his face bashfully, embarrassed by the display.

"You git! Get off the stage!"

"Da! This is how you would say 'sucking balls'!"

"Oy, get your arse offa the stage!"

"Hic! Yeh! Git offa dere!"

Cuba proceeded to throw his shoe at the band. A sour note from the trumpet ceased the music, but America didn't stop singing. He was actually starting the second verse then. After about thirty seconds however, he turned to see the annoyed countries. He continued on,

"_In full glory reflected now shines in_ - aw screw this, on with the show." he muttered.

The heckling countries began to stand up and applaud, but America shut them up with a look. He then grinned, and looking at his notecard exclaimed, "To open tonight's act, we have the one, the only, JAPAN!"

Japan got up from his table he was sharing with Greece and a few cats and headed towards the stage as the nations politely clapped. Carrying his bamboo flute, he got up on stage, and bowed to the applause graciously. He then smiled softly and said, "I am going to perform a piece I composed called, 'Calm Cherry Petals on Crystal Soft Water'."

He blew into the flute, and it played softly and beautifully. The piece he performed wasn't very spectacular for something he wrote, but the nations just smiled and nodded out of courtesy. Japan was never one to act out, so his music they really didn't expect anyway to be a huge thrill.

America hid in one of the wings backstage, listening to the music. He nodded along with the tune.

_Hmmmmf. It sounds pretty_. He yawned. _Just like one of Iggy's lulla-_

Without another chance to finish that thought, America fell asleep, toppling over. His head hit a plywood shelf of lightweight metal hats and tins. The shelf toppled over, causing a humongous crash. This caused Japan to stop the music immediately.

A few other nations had been lulled to drowsiness as well. Ireland sniffed, and giggled drunkly, "Ehe, wonder where I've heard dat tune before."

"Baa, You sang a lullaby to me with the same tune when I was a baby sis.", answered her brother Northern Ireland who gently readjusted her blouse.

"Hic, oh yeh. I remember that now. I bet England didn't sing you that, now did he?"

"Ireland, please." grumbled England.

When the crash from the stage rang out, the audience was rather startled. Taiwan gave a little "Eep!" as she heard the noise, and Latvia began to shiver. A metal tin rolled out from the wing off the stage, and stopped at Japan's feet. About a minute later, America staggered on stage, a bit disheveled and dirtied. Rather dazed, he gave a rather messed up trademark grin and a weak thumbs up to Japan, muttering dizzily, "Thank you Japan, for that...ehm..._calming_ piece. You may go sit down now."

"But America-san, I haven't fini-"

"GETOFFTHESTAGE."

"All right. All right."

* * *

><p>Fixing his hair, America took a deep breath, and smiling once more read from the notecard the next act. "France, and his dancing poodles Fifi, Marianne, and Francoise!"<p>

A few nations exchanged looks of amusement. Dancing poodles ought to be interesting. At least France wasn't going to do some stupid strip dance like last year. That was rather scarring. And it lasted for ten minutes until they got security to haul him off.

As France led his poodles up on stage, everyone noticed how he had been wearing a long black robe. The poodles were all wearing black bow ties, and their dyed pink fluffy fur was perfectly groomed. France's trademark seductive smile was plastered flat onto his face.

The audience politely clapped as the French man bowed. "Bonjour mes amis. I have quite a spectacle for your lovely eyes to feast upon. Mon chiens, et moi have been working very hard for tonight. And now..."

France ripped off the robe to reveal himself nearly naked except for a fluffly pink poodle fluff loincloth.

"WE DANCE! NOUS DANSONS!"

The nations all gasped in either surprise, horror, or disgust. Switzerland didn't hesitate to cover a confused Liechtenstein's eyes. Sweden pushed Sealand's head down from the tech box where they were sitting. Russia hid his face with his scarf. Hungary rushed to grab her camera, just in case any male nations were turned on by France's nudity. Italy went on chattering at his table to Germany who was hiding his face in disgust. Japan was obviously unsettled by this, and turned white as a sheet.

As France went on grinning, the seductive French music began to play. America covered his face with his hands. He did NOT like where this was going...

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE MINUTES LATER<strong>

England and Russia attempted to pull the two remaining poodles off of France as they sunk their little filed down teeth into him. The other poodle was running around maniacally, growling and chasing after people backstage. France screamed shrilly, much like a girl as the poodles bit him, covered in bite marks from their endless mauling. He had practiced this routine with them at home, so why were they mauling him now? Okay, maybe he should have done a dress rehearsal first, knowing that dogs sometimes liked bare naked skin to bite. And it didn't really make him feel any better that the loose poodle had ripped off his loincloth and was in possession of it. England, disgusted, gave him a pair of shorts to cover his nether regions.

America was humiliated and trying to pull himself together backstage. This was DEFINITELY not going well. And this was just the second act. Chee! That's great.

They finally managed to pry off the two mauling poodles, and cage them backstage. The third poodle was able to be calmed down by Germany, who for the rest of the evening held the then-happy poodle. When France walked by later with a look of contempt on his face, the poodle snarled, and he ran off.

France moaned in pain from all the little bite marks on his bare body. Ireland got her first aid kit from her bag, and prepared to bandage up the marks. As she got a spray bottle, France asked,

"What is that? Is it going to hurt?"

"It's disinfectant to prevent you from getting infected, now hold still." she answered grumpily, not pleased at having to treat someone now, especially for free. As she sprayed him, he cried out as the serum stung painfully. He whimpered as she sprayed on more.

"Quit snivelling like a bloody tyke. It's not that bad."

France muttered something under his breath about a 'clover-humping snarky bitch' as he was getting off the stage, finally bandaged up five minutes later. America, sweating a bit, smiled half-heartedly as he came back on stage. He was not about to lose it this early in the evening.

* * *

><p>"And now our next act is the Amazi- oh you've got to be kidding me..." he muttered, reading the act.<p>

"The what?" asked Spain. "The Amazi? Who's that?"

America drew in a long annoyed breath, and said monotonously, "The Amazing Russia."

Smiling like a kid on Christmas morning, Russia jumped up from his seat, wearing a magician's hat.

America was speechless. A magic act? The commie was going to do a stupid magic act? He wasn't going to do something sick and twisted like trying to make everyone "become one with him" like last year, where he had to get pulled off stage by security, and it took at least 15 guards, a tazer, and some vodka to do it? Well if pulling a stupid rabbit out of a hat was going to be all Russia would do that night, so be it.

"E-heh! Hello everyone! I am the Amazing Russia!" cried Russia happily as he got on stage. "Hello comrade." He said to America monotonously, still smiling all the same. He was not pleased to see that capitalist pig on stage, M.C. at that. But he wasn't going to let it show tonight, in front of all the nations. He might as well humor the idiot American.

"Just get the act on already Ivan."

"Oh dear, are we getting upset comrade? No need to be rude, da?" an all too familiar aura faintly grew around the large nation. America really got on his nerves.

Grumbling, America brushed off Russia's semi-threatening air and walked off stage, allowing the other to go on with his act.

"E-heh, now my _lovely_ assistant will bring out my special "friend". Lovely assistant?"

"I'm not coming out there. I look ridiculous."

"Oh Estonia, don't fight it now. We don't want a mess backstage do we?"

Estonia reluctantly walked out, wearing a dress and heels. He wheeled out a wooden box, with a hole for a head on one side, and holes for legs on the other, suspended on wooden legs. He grumbled, wondering how in the hell he had gotten into this. He was usually able to get his way out of trouble involving Russia, however now he couldn't remember if it was the bribe for a new laptop, or a threat towards embarrassing photos of him and Latvia on the internet (taken via Russia) that convinced him to stoop this low. All he knew was that if he had been taller than Russia, he wouldn't have hesitated squishing that bugger.

Wheeling the box over to Russia, Russia smiled gleefully, and pulled a saw out of nowhere. He then said to the audience, "I will now cut my lovely assistant in half!"

Curiously, Estonia had opened up the lid of the box slightly, and saw that it was empty. Which was not good. There was no second box, fake legs, or trap door, meaning Russia was going to literally saw him in half.

"Lovely assistant! Please climb into the box!"

"Um Russia, can I ask you something?"

"Da?"

Estonia whispered into his ear.

"...Euh? You mean there has to be something in the box?"

Estonia nodded.

"So I can't cut you in half by magic?"

Estonia shook his head. "There's no such thing as magic."

"Oh...can I still cut you in half though?"

"No!"

"Hmm, you're right, too messy."

Russia thought for a moment, then smiled. He took off his hat. "Okay, minor change in plans! I will pull a rabbit out of my hat!"

Estonia frowned, then whispered into Russia's ear, "Do you even have a rabbit?"

Russia nodded, "Oh, da! I put him in the hat this morning! Good little Bartok is going to come out of this hat!"

Estonia's eyes shot wide open. Bartok, his pet rabbit was in Russia's hat all day, with no air. Estonia began to panic inside.

Russia then reached into the hat, "Abracadabra! Tadaaaa!" And he pulled out a now dead rabbit by the ears.

Estonia gave a high shrill scream. He had never told Russia he could use his rabbit, and now he was dead! His beloved pet!

Many nations began to gasp, seeing the dead animal. England turned white as a sheet, being a rabbit lover himself. Cuba puckered his lips into an 'o' and gave a breathless, "hoo...". This sure was going great.

Blissfully unaware of the chaos he had caused, Russia smiled and turned to Estonia, holding the dead rabbit, "Look Estonia, the trick worked! I pulled a rabbit out of my hat!"

Estonia, who was having a panic attack on the floor, near hysterical looked up at the nation and said, "G-great! N-now do a trick to bring MY pet back to life you, b-big oaf!"

Russia nodded, still happy, "Nyet, sorry. Like you said, there's no such thing as magic, da?"

Estonia gave a frustrated yell. Then he realized something. Bartok(when he was alive) had been taking flea medication for a bit, but there were still many fleas in his fur. If he was in Russia's hat all day...

Russia took a bow, hoping to get applause, but all he got were frightened, panicked, mutters and confused expressions. But then he felt something. His head began to itch. Badly. He scratched at it. But then the itching went to his arms. He slapped at his arms, trying to make it go away, but then it got to the rest of his body.

"I-itchy...itchyitchyitchy!" he cried, trying to make it stop. Estonia, trying to calm down, turned and said to the audience, "Um pardon us ladies and gentlemen, but um we may have...a flea outbreak."

People cried out in confusion and horror. A few more nations began slapping at parts of their bodies, trying to stop the spontaneous itch. Russia was dragging himself around the floor, trying to get the unreachable itches, and then began to rub his back along the wall, all the while crying, "Itchyitchyitchy!Itch!NyeeeeeItch!"

America, for the first time that night was laughing at the act, because Russia was finally getting his due. He knew that this was a disaster, but for now he'd enjoy watching the bastard suffer. He paid little heed to the people in the crowd suffering from fleas.

* * *

><p><strong>LATER<strong>

After having gotten the contaminated countries to a veterinary office (when they phoned the hospital about the flea problem, the nurse was laughing too hard to answer them) and Russia into a medicated flea bath, they were able to continue.

America, exhausted, but a little uplifted having seen his rival get unlucky, called out the next act. "...ulp...Belarus..."

Belarus, smirking in her contemptful way, got up and made her way to the stage. America was a bit irritated, two former Soviet countries performing in a row. Well, since Russia was gone, Belarus' act should probably be a bit more sane. He heard she had a lovely singing voice so she was probably going to perform a song or-...

The minute Belarus got up on the stage, she pulled out a bunch of knives from the folds of her dress. She said, still smiling, "Would the stage crew please bring me my target? And could I have a WILLING volunteer?"

The audience was pin quiet, not liking the word 'willing'. Lithuania however raised his hand enthusiastically.

Frowning at him, Belarus looked around the entire audience for someone else. Her beloved brother was getting his head shaved from the fleas then, and her devilish older sister had gone along with him, so she didn't have any other volunteers.

When she turned her head back to her, Lithuania, and Poland's table, she saw her admirer waving his arm like a palm tree in a hurricane. Giving an annoyed sigh, she said apathetically, "Come on up."  
>Gleefully, Lithuania jumped onto the stage, "Oh thank you! Thank you Miss Belarus!"<p>

Ignoring him, she said to the audience, "I never miss!"

This no doubt made a few countries turn pale. What did she mean by that?

Leading an oblivious Lithuania to the large target that was wheeled out, she had him get on the platform, and then used the leather straps to bind him to it. Walking to the other side of the stage, she said to the audience, "Lithuania will not be harmed, I assure you, but if you dare distract me..."

The audience was pin quiet. Belarus then turned, smiling that ever so eery smile that everyone but Lithuania dreaded. And then she chucked the first knife at the target. It landed right near Lithuania's wrist. People gasped, but were relieved it didn't hit him. The next knifes landed by his other wrist, leg, and just right above his head. Everyone was incredibly tense, but clapping that it had actually worked.

Then Belarus took a bow, then said, "I will now throw three more knives, blindfolded!"

Lithuania, oblivious until this time, realized one key factor. Belarus hadn't mastered throwing these blindfolded. She knew how to miss the wrists when she was throwing them at the dummy, but it was always the leg she kept hitting right at the very end...

He piped up, "Erm...Miss Belarus...I think I-"

She looked at him seductively, knowing how to shut him up. "_Hm_?"

His mouth agape in a stupid smile, he simply nodded, "Throw them knives."

Belarus, smirking, slid the blindfold over her eyes, and chucked the first knife...

It hit Lithuania in the leg, and he gave a pained squeak. The audience gasped in horror. Lithuania still had a smile on his face.

Belarus lifted the blindfold, and said with a surprised look, "Oops."

She quickly untied Lithuania, and he staggered off of the platform, the knife still in his leg. He was smiling with a pained wince.

"...Ah...are you alright?"

"G-great Ms. Belarus. Never been better!" said Lithuania. Okay, so he lied. He was in a crapton of pain, and blood was oozing out from the wound, and soaking his pants. At least it didn't hit an artery, or something. But by the time he had staggered off stage, he had fainted.

* * *

><p><strong>ANOTHER TEN MINUTES LATER<strong>

Estonia, Poland, and Belarus all left along with the ambulance taking poor Lithuania to the hospital. He would be alright, but the audience was still rather upset over the incident. Latvia however stayed at the show, knowing he was going to be called on stage next. But at this point, he dreaded it.

America called out his name, "Latvia's act is up next!"

...

...

* * *

><p><strong>THIRTY SECONDS LATER<strong>

America yelled, "Could someone from backstage get a bucket please? _Somebody_ just violently threw up near exit stage left."

Latvia shivered as he slumped on the floor. He felt better, but, not really. His nerves on stage were horrible, and he felt as though he was idiot of the year for even attempting to go on stage and sing. Oh well, it would have sucked anyway. Estonia was supposed to have accompanied him on piano, but he left with Lithuania, so he would have had to sing that traditional Latvian folk song accapella. And then there was the fact he had eaten the spoiled borscht back at home. Whenever Russia cleaned the fridge, and made meals out of **all** the leftovers, someone was bound to get food poisoning. And the soup sure as hell didn't taste any better coming back up.

The next thing he knew, Ireland was coming on stage, with a worried look, "Did you throw up blood?"

"N-no m'am...It's borscht..."

Sighing, America said to Ireland, "Well, what's ironic is that your act is up next. Traditional Irish dancing right?"

Looking at America, she grumbled, "Well I can't dance if he just threw up. The stage is too slippery, and anyway, I think I'll just help Latvia. He looks like he needs to lie down or something. Just call out the next act."

America groaned. This night was going horribly, and it wasn't getting any better.

Ireland led Latvia off the stage, "Poor tyke, let's get you a cot or something back stage. Your face is greener than my clovers."

* * *

><p>America half heartedly called out, "Switzerland...just get on stage."<p>

Switzerland, with a smirk of pride stepped on stage, and said with a serious tone, "I'm going to put on an abridged gun show."

Hungary squealed in absolute delight, which caused everyone to stare at her. Everyone knew about her yaoi fetish, so the words 'gun show' had a different meaning to her.

Switzerland ignored her, not letting someone like her distract him from this proud moment. He had a certain liking to his weapons, and this night was going to be the perfect occasion to show them off. His little sister Liechtenstein had helped him polish and sort them all the night before. His Swiss pride would shine throughout the whole room tonight!

He pulled out the first gun, "This is a luger."

Hungary had a face of bewilderment, "What? What is this?"

Switzerland, once more, ignored her, "Its origin is from Germany and-"

"No,no,NO! You've got it all wrong!" said the green eyed nation angrily, as she charged up onto the stage. "THIS is a gun show!" she cried as she then began to pull off Switzerland's clothes.

"Wh-what are you DOING! Get away from me!" cried Switzerland angrily, Prussia laughing his head off at his friend's wild attitude that evening.

"If you're going to put on a gun show, do it RIGHT!" she cried, and with that, she stripped off his clothes. Switzerland would have been strong enough to fight her off, but in her yaoi driven surge, she had the upper hand.

By the time she had pulled off his trousers, the audience shrieked. There he stood, in his birthday suit, absolutely humiliated. Sealand was once again shielded by his father in the tech box, while Liechtenstein hurried to get a tissue for her bloody nose. Italy then said with a frown, "Hey! And he always gets mad when _I'm_ naked!"

Switzerland, who was about ready to die of embarrassment, ran off stage, hoping to find some clothes, and an opportunity to kill Hungary later. Too bad for him that she was dragged of stage by security screaming profanities, while Prussia was nearly on the floor hysterical with laughter.

* * *

><p>America then walked back out to the stage, completely exhausted, and near ready to kill something. But he still kept a smile. "So our next act is kind of a wild card but we hope-"<p>

He was interrupted by Prussia sliding out onto the stage laughing obnoxiously, playing his electric guitar loudly, shredding out some wild notes. He then began to sing about himself, and how awesome he was. The audience couldn't really hear the lyrics. In fact they probably couldn't hear anything, because three seconds after he started playing, their eardrums most likely stopped working from the loud high-decibel notes. Prussia was slated to have a three minute song, but it ended a minute and a half early after he broke the speakers.

Hair slightly frizzed, America said tipsily, "T-thank you Prussia for that...nice wake-up music."

* * *

><p>Smiling slightly, he said, "Now for our final act, we have Germany and Italy!" Germany and Italy then got up on stage, Germany began to play the piano, and they both began to sing the song "Let's Call the Whole Thing off".<p>

America smiled, thinking that the final act was going to go well. Then, he looked up at the stage projection screen. It had turned into a Windows style desktop. There was a little beeping cursor smack dab in the middle. And a little screen popped up, saying "ERROR- Slideshow has stopped working, and has been forced to close"

Meanwhile in the techbox, Iceland and Denmark struggled to fix the laptop. It had been projecting the light shows in the back, but then it had the stupid error screen, and froze. But then all of a sudden, popped up an ad:

_**TROJAN ECSTACY- BETTER THAN EVER!**_

"Denmark, damn it! Fix it!"

"I'm trying! I'm trying!"

America, from the stage, was now about ready to crack. It was all over. He was dead. What was going to happen? Mobs? Blackmailing? Chinese water torture? China would have loved doing that.

But then he saw the audience was laughing. Hard. Because after the condom ad had popped up, more ads had popped up, one was promoting strippers, one promoting some funny viral video, and another was an ad made to flash brightly.

As Denmark and Iceland argued, everyone else, even Sweden, was laughing nonstop.

Germany and Italy had no clue that the projector had failed, so they assumed that the audience thought their act was funny. They continued to sing, "_You say potato, and I say potAto. You say tomato, and I say tomAto_."

By the time they had finished, the audience was laughing too hard to applaud. A bit encouraged, America realized that his reputation wasn't ruined.

* * *

><p>America went back onstage, bowed to the laughing audience, and went back to his dressing room to break down. He had made it, and now he could quietly go batshit insane.<p>

England leaned in the doorway, and said, "Well how do _you_ think it went?"

America looked up, "Absolutely horrible."

England patted him on the shoulder, "Well just think of it this way. It sure was better than last year."

America smiled, "Yeah, that's for sure. Now let's never speak of it again."

England rolled his eyes. After that final show, people would be talking about this for decades.

**END**

**Bonus:**

Canada sighed. Why had they not called up his act?

"Sorry Kumijiro. Maybe next year, we can do your jump-through-a-hoop act."

"Who are you?"

"..._Sigh_..."


End file.
